


Camera Happy

by LeesaPerrie



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-13
Updated: 2007-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-14 02:53:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15379125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeesaPerrie/pseuds/LeesaPerrie
Summary: Season 1 at start, season 3 at end, after ‘The Game’.  Rodney's view on some planets they've visited, with photos (taken by Teyla).





	Camera Happy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SGA_flashfic Strange New Worlds and Alien Geography challenge.

**Camera Happy  
By Leesa Perrie**

This is what happens when you give a digital camera to an Athosian, after explaining how it works to her. I hate to think what will happen when she learns how to use the camcorders…

Still, these aren’t so bad. Just scenes of alien worlds we’ve visited, not embarrassing photos. I tried to delete those, but Sheppard beat me to them, damn him. I have a horrible feeling about where they’re going to end up, especially the ones of me and that stupid cat/dog/bear creature on M8L-097 that found my crotch so very alluring and sniffed deeply, and for a long time, before my howling team-mates (well, not so much howling, but there was definitely laughter involved) managed to drag it away. The villagers, fortunately, weren’t there to see the love-struck animal’s actions, but Teyla, damn her traitorous heart, snapped a few photos. You wouldn’t have thought it of her, being so apparently sensible and mature, but no, she took great delight in capturing the scene, in between her fits of giggling. 

Oh yes, it seems that even Teyla can giggle - it’s quite a shock, and rarely seen. Personally, I blame it on Sheppard’s influence on her; it’s not a good thing.

But I digress. These are general shots, nothing more, I’m pleased to say. 

Ah, yes, P0E-553 or The Lilac-Purple World as Ford dubbed it. Purple sands with strange, low growing bushes as far as the eye could see, under a disturbingly mauve sky. Hot? Oh yes, it was hot and dry and a total wash out. And the energy signal the MALP had picked up that had enticed us to investigate this weird landscape? An old abandoned building that was falling to pieces and was powered by solar panels, with no technology to find, other than the solar cells. We sent a team to collect them later, never knowing when a few solar panels might help. I thought it was a waste of time and effort myself, but Teyla thinks we might be able to trade them off world somewhere. 

At the moment they’re just cluttering up a storage room. 

P1F-392 or Planet Eyestrain, as dubbed by me. I got in before Ford this time, for once. The bright yellow leaves hurt the eyes to look at, and they were everywhere. The locals said it happened once a year, just before the trees lost their foliage. Great, we found a world that caused headaches in Fall. And there was no technology beyond the wheel, and that looked like a new invention. Still, they agreed to trade meat for basic medical help, so it seemed like something good had come out of the migraine that hit me on the way back to the gate. 

Until we tasted the meat. I think I’d rather starve, thank you very much. And skip the headache too.

Hmm, P3X-141 or Wig World; Ford again. I swear, we need to stop him. Seriously, we need to do something! 

Though I have to admit, they do look rather wig-like. 

What did we get from this planet? Grain, you’d think, looking at the ‘straw bales’. But no, what we got was a polite ‘leave us alone’ request and an alien virus that spread through Atlantis like wildfire – apparently the medical lockdown didn’t recognise this virus as a threat. Carson says it’s probably a ‘new’ virus that wasn’t around ten thousand years ago. I say, damn useless protocols if they can’t recognise a virus, regardless of its newness or not.

So coughs, nausea, fever, chills, aches, pains, a horrible rash and thirty-nine hours of pathetic sickness later, I emerged to find three quarters of Atlantis still in the throes of illness, and most of the other quarter, who turned out to be immune for some medical mumbo jumbo reason, the lucky sods, looking about ready to drop with exhaustion; so maybe not so lucky after all.

I really hate contagions.

M5S-730 or Planet Rustic. Another one of Ford’s.

The place was possibly not too bad. I mean, the people at least had some form of track-way, even if it was made out of wooden slats that would be slippery when wet by the looks of them, not to mention would rot and need to be replaced often. Still, better than a dirt track, just.

The cabins were made of wood too. It was all very ‘rustic’, or primitive if you asked me, but then ninety-nine percent of the worlds we visited were hardly any better, and many were a lot, lot worse.

Still no technology, certainly no ZPM. 

Fruit and vegetables though, lots of them.

Really, why am I on this team? If we’re not getting into trouble, then we’re trading for food! I have much better things to do than go shopping.

Oh, right, I’m there for when we do find something of interest. 

Or Sheppard gets into trouble and needs me to get him out of it. 

Just great.

P9V-923 or Biliously Green Sand Land. Yes, you’ve guessed it, the Lieutenant-Who-Should-Know-Better at work again!

It was rather sickly. And I thought lilac sand was bad! Ugh. 

Hot, hot and hot again, and the nomads were not friendly. Being chased over hot, green sand back to the gate, while avoiding the pointy arrows and spears, wasn’t exactly fun, nor great for the health. Ford got an arrow through his arm; not good, but fortunately Carson says it will heal just fine.

Another planet to cross off the list of potential allies.

Oh yeah, M1Z-830. Ford wasn’t with us, still off duty due to the arrow from the green sand planet, so we took Markham with us. He didn’t name the planet, thankfully. Nor did the rest of us.

The villagers were friendly and open to trade. No technology, again. That’s six planets in a row and nothing more than a few solar powered panels to show for it. 

Food, we were doing better with, and here we found actually edible meat as well as grain in exchange for the usual basic medical care. Of course, there was a ritual involved in agreeing the trade. A long dark corridor dug into a hill and lined with damp stone, and a central chamber just big enough for five people to stand in, though very cramped. 

Sheppard left Markham outside to stand guard, but the locals insisted that the rest of us had to take part in the ceremony. Two of them, the head chief and his holy man, entered with us and did some chanting, and then we were sprinkled with water and that was it, the ritual was done.

Let me tell you, I was all for standing guard instead of Markham, though Sheppard, of course, wouldn’t hear of it. I should get a medal for going into that cramped, small, tiny space. Claustrophobia? Oh yeah, if I hadn’t had it before, which I did, I’d have had it after that. How I made it through without hyperventilating or turning around and rushing back out I don’t know. But somehow I did.

Did I get any sympathy though? Oh no, not from Major Get-A-Grip-McKay Sheppard. I’m thinking of barricading him into his quarters, not literally. A few deft swaps with the door crystals and he’ll be stuck, and not even his gene will help him. Oh, and fix the lights so they don’t come on, and make sure he’s only able to contact me. Let’s see how he likes being in a dark room; pity it’s not a closet, but I don’t think I could lure him into one of them.

Of course, I’d send someone to let him out…eventually.

So, that’s it; the last six planets I’ve visited. I don’t know why I’m writing this letter, seeing as we’re separated by a few billion light years, and that even if contact with Earth’s established sometime in the future, you and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms these days. Not to mention your lack of clearance either.

Maybe one day I’ll have the opportunity, and the courage, to try and contact you. Not with this letter, national security and all that, but maybe some other way.

I miss you.

Huh, who’d a thought it? Me, sentimental? Normally I don’t have time for nonsense such as this.

I blame it on Sheppard and his damned influence on me. I mean, it must be him, or maybe it’s this place, the people here… No, it’s all Sheppard’s fault, like everything usually is.

Talking of whom, I wonder how much the going rate is to delete certain photos?

\----------------

Much later, after finding out that a certain game was more than it seemed…

Rodney had temporarily forgotten where he’d saved the technical notes he wanted to go over, and so was checking through his CDs and disks when he came across the letter he’d written to Jeannie all that time ago.

He was about to hit delete, when he stopped. Maybe if he edited out the cat/dog/bear bit, and maybe some of the last bit, or altered that…

In the end, he decided to print it out as it was and placed it into an envelope. He was due to stay at Jeannie’s in a few weeks time for Madison’s birthday. He shuddered at the thought of lots of excited kids and was already finding an excuse to miss the actual party itself. He hoped his niece liked the present he was going to buy her; a space encyclopaedia and telescope set. 

He’d leave the letter somewhere for his sister to find once his visit was over and he was safely on his way back to Atlantis. It would make her laugh, and no doubt she’d ask Sheppard for the embarrassing photos that he knew the colonel still had saved somewhere, probably in several places, in case of ‘accidental’ erasure if he ever came across them.

But maybe it would also help to bring them closer.

He shook his head; damn Sheppard and his influence. 

Though he knew, deep down, that it was more than just one pain-in-the-neck lieutenant colonel who was to blame. It was all of them, his friends and new found family; they were all to blame.

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Notes (from 2007): My photo manipulation skills are basic, but I’ve altered three of the above six photos to try and make them look more alien! The photos came from an ‘Art Explosion’ pack that I brought a while back, and no, it doesn't tell me what or where the photos depict. However, psyko_kittie on live journal recognised the last place as being the Ocmulgee Indian Mounds (Macon, Georgia, USA). I looked the site up on the internet, and it looks like it's the Earthmound. Just so you know!


End file.
